Summer Love
by FairyDust4Ever
Summary: Post OotP. Harry is grieving the death of Sirius. Ron is in Romania. Who will Harry turn to for comfort and support? Mostly fluff, maybe a plot later on. May be rated T in later chapters.
1. Birthday Blues

Summer Love

Disclaimer: I own only the plot. The rest belongs to the lovely Ms. Rowling.

Chapter 1. Happy Birthday!

Harry Potter sat silently in his small room at 4 Privet Drive. It was in an entirely woebegone way that he was surveying a certain leather-bound book. It was the photo album Hagrid, the keeper of the keys and grounds at Hogwarts and Harry's friend, had given him at the end of his first year. His emerald green eyes glistened wetly and the page he was looking at was splattered with tears. Beaming up at him were the three people he had loved the most, the three people who had been taken from him by his deadly enemy: a young, auburn-haired woman with bright green eyes, and two tall black-haired men. They beamed happily up from the photo. Their names, Lily Evans Potter (a blushing bride bedecked in white gown and veil), James Potter (her joyous groom), and Sirius Black (their best man).

Harry Potter, gazing at their happy faces, knew that he was considered highly unusual even in the world where he belonged, the wizarding world. That's right, he was a wizard, and a rather good one, but he would never have said so. He lived with his terrible aunt, uncle and cousin because the rest of his relatives were dead. His appearance was striking. He had piercing green eyes, black hair that stood up in all directions, and a thin lightening bolt scar in the middle of his forehead, a remnant of his nearly fatal encounter with the murderer of his parents. He was still slim, but not as small as he used to be.

As he sat there, still as a statue except for the tears that continued to stream down his face, an owl arrived on his window sill, tapping on the glass panes. Harry jumped, startled, and then smiled weakly for the first time in days, weeks even, recognizing the owl of one of his best friends. His face fell again upon remembering that Sirius, his beloved godfather, had given that owl to Ron over two years ago. A small ball of downy feathers, it was struggling to remain airborne with the large, and probably heavy package, attached to its leg.

Confused, Harry looked at the battered calendar attached to his wall. It was his birthday! The little owl was bringing Harry's birthday present. In slightly better spirits, Harry leaped up to let Pigwidgeon in.

In another place...

A young girl looked down at the piece of parchment she had been writing on, the ink still glimmering, not quite dry. It was written in neat lettering, with only a flourish underneath her beautifully scrawled name, Hermione.

She was writing a birthday card to Harry and trying to include a condolence letter in the card, not an easy task. She offered consolation for the death of Sirius, still fresh in everyone's minds, and wished him a happy birthday.

Back at the Dursleys:

Harry untied the package, releasing Pig, who flew away, twittering excitedly. 'You'd think that insane owl would need a rest after all that, but I guess not,' Harry thought, watching the bird zooming around his room. Turning his attention to the gift in his hands, he ripped off the paper. At just that moment, Pig collapsed and Harry, cradling the little fuzz ball in his cupped hands, placed him in Hedwig's cage, noticing glumly that his beautiful snowy owl hadn't yet returned from her nighttime excursion.

At Hermione's:

Hermione finished wrapping her gift for Harry and glanced out her window. Hedwig would show up on her windowsill soon. 'I have to get myself an owl,' Hermione thought. It was fairly difficult to send things to her wizarding friends without one.

At that moment, Hedwig soared gracefully through the open window, perching herself on the back of Hermione's swivel chair.

"Good timing, Hedwig," Hermione said quietly. Just because she believed this intelligent animal understood her didn't mean her parents would share her views. She gazed around her large room, looking for the letter. She had just put it down. Things were easily lost in the slightly disorganized clutter of her bedroom. (AN: I know Hermione is supposed to be organized, but her being slightly disorganized makes her seem more human.)

"Ah! Found it!" she exclaimed happily, descending on the letter, which was sitting innocently atop her jewelry box. She sealed it with scarlet wax, pressing the imprint of an iris into it before it cooled. Checking once more that the gift was securely wrapped in its red and gold wrapping paper, she tied it onto Hedwig's leg along with the letter. Hedwig took off from the window, soaring out of sight.

At the Dursley's:

Harry was admiring some of the WWW (Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes) products that Ron had given him, including a sample of their new line of fireworks made in honor of their benefactor, Harry. They were named, "Fireworks that will drive your relations Batty." According to Ron, they were, "very realistic-looking bat-shaped fireworks that scared Mum out of her wits." Poor Mrs. Weasley.

Hedwig flew in as Harry was finishing reading Ron's card. She, too, was bearing gifts. He tore the beautiful paper in Gryffindor colors from the gift, revealing a scrapbook. He picked up the note in Hermione's hand:

"Dear Harry,

I know you must be having a horrible time at the Dursleys', with only Sirius' death to think about. I am having a hard time with it and at least I have my mum and dad to talk to about it. I just wanted to say I'm here for you if you want to talk. My phone number is 336-1216, so call me sometime.

On to happier topics. Happy birthday! You're sixteen! We've known each other for five years now. You can drive! **(A/N: I know that in Britain this isn't the legal driving age, but for the sake of my plot, I'm going to say it is.)** The gift (please open it before you read this, if you haven't already) is a scrapbook with photos and other little things from our first five years at Hogwarts. Enjoy.

Love,

Hermione."

Harry looked at the book and then at the words, "Love, Hermione," and his face broke into the first real grin since Sirius died. He began to thumb through the book.


	2. The Phonecall

**Summer Love**

**Chapter 2 **

Disclaimer: Only the plot belongs to me. The rest belongs to and is inspired by the lovely Ms. Rowling.

Hermione had just gotten a letter from Ron saying that he was going to Romania to visit Charlie for the summer. She knew that Harry must have received one just like it. He was going to be upset.

She plunked herself down in front of the phone, anticipating Harry's call. She found she didn't have to wait long before the phone rang.

Hermione picked it up on the second ring and they exchanged a quick hello.

"I really love the gift. It's wonderful," said Harry quietly.

His voice was hoarse. Had he been crying?

"Harry, are you okay?" Hermione inquired, concerned.

"Yes," he replied, trying to use his usual, confident tones.

"Harry, I know you probably got a letter just now saying that Ron's going to visit Charlie and we can't stay this summer, so… would you like to stay here at my house this summer?" There was a long pause at the other end. "I mean, I know it's not the same, but—˝

"Thank you so much, Hermione! I could kiss you. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to get away from the Dursleys this summer! Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!" Harry interrupted joyfully.

"Oh, stop that. Did you really think I'd let you sit in that house, among those wretched people, and rot?" she laughed, glad to see some happiness in Harry.

"Have you asked your parents?" asked Harry, somewhat worried about what the Grangers would think about Hermione inviting one of her male friends to stay over the summer.

"Of course I have. They say we can come and pick you up as soon as tomorrow morning," said Hermione.

"This is so great of you Hermione! Now I have to go ask permission from my uncle," Harry sighed. "This could take a while. I hope you have something to do."

"Uncle Vernon, I called my friend Hermione and she asked me to stay for the summer. Can I go?" queried Harry, bored by the process he had to go through every time he wanted to go somewhere.

"You did WHAT! I thought that I had told you that you weren't allowed to call your weirdo friends," thundered Uncle Vernon, turning an interesting shade of purple.

"She is from a normal family like you. She knows how to use a telephone. She grew up using a telephone. Its fine," soothed Harry, though his patience was wearing thin.

"Who is this Hermione anyway?" he asked, changing the subject.

"A friend of mine from Hog—from school," Harry swiftly corrected himself. A long pause ensued.

"A girl?"

" Yes, Uncle Vernon, she is a girl," Harry said slowly, as if to a toddler or a stupid person.

"Well…. I suppose I'll have to let you go or that murderous godfather of yours will hear about it," sighed Uncle Vernon, turning his attention back to the television.

Harry nodded, tears coming to his eyes at the mention of Sirius, but laughter came with it as Harry perceived how much Sirius had done for him and that the Dursleys were still scared of him.

Harry had just begun to walk away when Uncle Vernon yelled suddenly, "WAIT! You did say they were," he glanced around warily, "_normal_, didn't you?"

"Yes," responded Harry impatiently, starting up the stairs, "And they'll be picking me up by car."

Ten minutes later Hermione heard Harry storm back into his room and pick up the phone.

"They say I can come. They are so frustrating! They'd rather analyze a thing inside and out than give me a straight answer. Honestly, it was a yes or no question," Harry raged.

"I can see that it definitely isn't healthy to be cooped up in that house. Try to calm down; you'll be out of there by eight o'clock tomorrow morning. Take a rest and pack up leisurely," comforted Hermione in a motherly, compassionate voice.

Harry tried to take Hermione's advice, but was too stirred up to relax. Instead he sat himself the task of organizing and cleaning his room. He did not want Hermione to see it a mess because, knowing her, she'd have a fit and go about cleaning it up instead of getting him out of this place. By three o'clock that afternoon, his room was transformed.

Then he stacked his books, robes, and other supplies in his trunk. In a great feeling of accomplishment, he laid out his favorite olive green t-shirt and some black jeans for the next day.

The next day, Harry was making sure he looked just the way he wanted to. The night before he had tried to make his hair lie flat with hair gel, which only gained him an extra shower.

The door bell rang, startling Harry. He opened the door to see a completely different Hermione. Her hair wasn't frizzy and bushy anymore. She had done something to it that made it sleek and shiny and had also had it cut into cute, shoulder-length layers. She was wearing warm brown eye shadow that brought out the cinnamon tones in her eyes. She had noticeably filled out in all the right places, which was very obvious in the blue flared jeans and short white unicorn t-shirt she wore. Nothing was grossly tight, but fit her just right, glossing over her figure.

"Wow!" Harry exclaimed. "You've changed a lot," he added, his face breaking into a smile.

Dudley, who had been in the room when Harry was answering the door, was eyeing Hermione in a disturbing way. Harry, seeing this and not wanting Dudley to get any ideas, quickly enveloped Hermione in a hug.

Harry had definitely changed over the summer as well. He was a good deal taller than he had been at the end of the year. Hermione, pressed against his strong body, was nearly six inches shorter than him.

"Come in! Come in!" exclaimed Harry, releasing Hermione in order to open the door wider for Mr. and Mrs. Granger.

"Uncle Vernon! Aunt Petunia! The Grangers are here!" Harry shouted. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon appeared a moment later. After a brief conversation about jobs and the economy, Harry and the Grangers were on their way.

**A/N:** Yes, I know it is probably too much dialogue, but I'm just getting things established and this will probably be the only chapter like that. Don't kill me. Please make me happy and review. Go on. Review review review. And try to be nice because this is my first fanfic. REVIEW:-)


	3. Hermione's House

**Summer Love**

**Chapter 3**

"It isn't a very long drive. It's only about fifteen minutes," Hermione told Harry.

"You live that close?" asked Harry, amazed.

Hermione nodded. "We live on this street. It's down the road a bit from here. I think you'll like the house!" Hermione said excitedly as they turned onto Rose Terrace Drive. It was a lovely road bordered by large, brick-front houses. It was quite a sight.

At last, they turned onto a long, sweeping drive up to one of the biggest houses Harry had seen yet. It had a vast and beautiful front lawn and in behind the backyard of the house there were wild woods covered in vines and moss just itching to be explored.

Harry sat thunderstruck, captivated by the massive house. "It's amazing!" he breathed once he got over his amazement. "_My God_,it's beautiful!"

"Come on," Hermione said, opening his car door, and extending her hand to help him out in complete role reversal.

Harry got out of the car and proceeded to unload his trunk and an encaged Hedwig and carried them inside with Hermione following close behind, eager to see his next reaction. Harry froze in the entryway, gazing up at an impressive marble staircase.

"Who are you people? I thought you told me your parents were dentists, not the Queen's long lost sister and her husband," Harry uttered incredulously.

"Oh, yes, my parents are the Queen's siblings and I'm Queen Mab in disguise," Hermione replied sarcastically, shaking her head. "My mum inherited quite a lot of money from a millionaire uncle. She was his only living relative when he died."

"Oh."

Hermione took the arm of her awestruck friend and happily pulled him up the stairs where she promptly inquired, "Which room do you want? We have rooms in many colors. We have rooms on all of the floors. Some are furnished in mahogany, some in cherry wood, or other types of materials, all to suit the fancies of our house guests," she explained quickly.

"Er… I don't know. Give me anything. Surely any room in this house would be amazing," he told Hermione.

"Okay!" Hermione led him up another level of stairs and then turned off down a hallway.

She showed him her room, which was painted sky blue and continued down the hall to a scarlet room with cherry wood furnishings and gold accents. The gold and scarlet décor was beautiful. The whole room was stunning, reminding Harry of his dorm at Gryffindor and of the Gryffindor tower in general. This room was a large room, easily as big as Hermione's. He had his own walk-in closet and a bookshelf where he could store his books in an organized way instead of them being scattered all over the floor.

"Thank you!" he exclaimed and hugged Hermione again.

Hermione helped him get settled, hanging up his clothes in the closet and putting his books on the bookshelf. When they were done she walked into the closet again, and declared, "We're going shopping tomorrow—no objections! We would have to anyway because you don't have a swimsuit and we have a pool in the backyard."

"Really?" Harry asked, racing to the window. 'This place just gets better and better,' he thought to himself. "Okay, I suppose we can go shopping," he sighed unenthusiastically.

They had a fun day. Hermione showed Harry around the house, but he insisted he'd need a detailed map to find his way down to breakfast.

"If you really feel that way, I'll wait for you before I go down to breakfast so you don't get lost," she said, exasperated.

That night they headed off to bed early. The next day was going to be a big day! They were going shopping!

**AN: **Sorry it's so short. The next chapter will be longer, but only if you review! Please make me happy and tell me what you think of it. If you don't like it or if you have a suggestion, please tell me in a non-flame review. Thank you!


	4. Shopping and the Pool

**Summer Love **

**Chapter 4**

**Disclaimer: I own only the plot. The rest belongs to the exceedingly lucky Ms. Rowling.**

True to her word, Hermione waited for Harry in the morning…for about ten minutes. After waiting for those ten minutes, she went to listen at his door. Determining that he was still asleep, she ran into his room and jumped onto Harry's bed. She continued to bounce on his bed, but, seeing that this was having little effect, nudged him with her feet. At this, he opened his eyes slowly.

"Whaz a matta?" he asked groggily, not quite awake.

"Get up! Get up!" she called, venturing into his closet to pick out his clothes. She emerged a few minutes later with a red t-shirt and blue jeans. She laid them on the other side of the bed and began combing his hair while he was still struggling with the sheets.

He finally stumbled out of bed, mercifully in pajamas, which was something Hermione hadn't even thought about until he got out of bed. She handed him the clothes she had gotten out of his closet. He went in the bathroom that joined both of their bedrooms to shower and change.

Meanwhile, she went downstairs to get him a cup of coffee to help him wake up fully. Her parents had left for work already. Hermione read through their note quickly and headed back upstairs to give Harry the coffee before he began to think that she had abandoned him with no way to get down to breakfast.

Harry stepped out of the bathroom, glancing around for Hermione. He was dressed, but where was she? She had probably decided he was taking too long and went down to breakfast without him. Hermione chose that moment to appear in the doorway, a steaming mug of coffee in her hands.

"I suppose that's for you," Harry sighed, gesturing at the mug.

"No, it's for you. I have no need for coffee, I'm a morning person," replied Hermione, slipping the warm mug into his hands.

"Thanks, Mione," said Harry, trying out his nickname for her. "You didn't have to."

"I know I didn't," she said flirtatiously, making Harry laugh. "Now, go and brush your teeth. You males would be completely and utterly clueless without us females to guide you."

"Hey!" he shouted teasingly from the bathroom.

Finally, they were on their way to breakfast. Teasing and swatting at each other, they made their way down the stairs. While going down the slippery marble staircase, Hermione spun to hit Harry on the top of his head and began to fall, dragging Harry down with her. They landed in the entryway in a tangled heap. Stunned silence filled the room. Hermione began to laugh and cry at the same time.

"Oww… that hurt!" she sobbed, still laughing. "But it was a hell of a lot of fun!"

"Anything in particular hurt?" Harry asked, concerned that she had injured herself on those hard marble stairs or when he accidentally fell on top of her (he didn't have much control over how he landed when he was falling down the stairs).

"Just my back," she said. The laughing had subsided, but so had the tears. "Get off me, you big oaf!" she exclaimed, getting back her teasing tones.

Harry, with some difficulty, got up and pulled her to her feet. "That was a fascinating lesson that, it seems to me, should have been learned when you were six years old, not sixteen. Don't play on the stairs," he chuckled, relieved that she was all right.

"Yes, you're probably right, but who says I didn't learn it and decide to be rebellious and play on the stairs anyway?" she retorted, laughing again.

"I do. You are the least likely to be rebellious out of everyone I know and I like that about you," Harry said in earnest.

They headed toward the kitchen and had a nice breakfast of eggs, bacon, and toast.

"Wow, Hermione, I didn't know you were such a chef! This tastes great," remarked Harry.

"Don't forget that we're going shopping today," Hermione reminded him.

Over breakfast, they wondered how Ron was and how Romania was at this time of year, or any time of year. Then Harry got up and said they had better get going.

Hermione jumped up and ran to fetch the keys to the red convertible Mustang her parents had bought for her when she turned sixteen. (**AN: **Again, I know that in Britain they can't legally drive when they're sixteen, but for the sake of my plot, they can!)

They drove to the nearest mall while Hermione sang along with the radio to the song, "Miss Independent" by Kelly Clarkson.

"Aaargh!" Harry screeched in mock horror, covering his ears.

"Am I really _that _bad?" asked Hermione, playing along.

Harry grinned wickedly. "I'd have to say you are, Miss Granger!" he responded jokingly.

Hermione smacked the side of his head playfully as they reached the mall, which caused Harry to pout and refuse to exit the car for five minutes. At last, Hermione got back in the car, holding her arms out wide and said, "Come here, you big baby."

Harry crept into her embrace like a scared child and looked up at her with his best pouting face and said, "Kiss it better, Mione!"

At this, Hermione looked at him with a wicked grin of her own and leaped out of the car, running toward the mall. Laughter in her eyes, she called over her shoulder to a rather bewildered Harry, "Want that kiss? You're going to have to catch me first!"

Harry hopped out of the car and tore off after her, chasing her out of the parking lot. He finally caught her at the mall's entrance, enfolding her in his arms and shouting triumphantly, "I've got you!"

Looking up at him, she said, "Now bend down so I can kiss your boo-boo. I should have known smacking you would come with consequences."

"Well, geez, Hermione, I should have remembered you smack hard before I commented on your singing," he responded, adding, "I reckon I've got a bump forming up there where you hit me." He bent down.

Hermione reached up, finding a bump where she'd hit him. She thought, 'I'm so close to him… And now I'm going to kiss him? This can't be a good idea, but it's only because I hit him that I've got to do this, so it's my fault.'

She bent down and her lips brushed the poor boy's forehead. Just a quick peck. "All better?" she asked. "Harry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hit you that hard," she apologized.

"Hermione! It's nothing to get worked up about! I was only teasing… I think. But, hell, that really hurt. I'm okay now," he said, wiping away a tear that had leaked out of her eyes.

"Okay," she sighed and then smiled, "On to the shopping!"

"Okay," he agreed, happy that she was no longer crying.

They went to several department stores and ended up at Hecht's where Hermione picked out a large selection of clothes for Harry to try on. Finally, she said, "Here's what we're going to do. I'll buy you one casual outfit and one formal outfit. Now we just have to decide," she grinned, ushering him into the dressing room to try on everything again.

In the end they decided on a moss green t-shirt and a pair of cargo pants for the casual outfit and a silky, red, button-down shirt and a pair of black pants for the formal outfit.

Harry dragged a protesting Hermione over to the women's section to get her two outfits as well. Harry picked out fewer things for her to try on, but she had a good selection all the same.

Eventually, they decided on a white silk halter top embellished with many small white beads. To go with this extravagant top, they picked a simple, black skirt that just brushed Hermione's knees.

"My God, Hermione, you're so beautiful!" breathed Harry.

"Do you really think so?" asked Hermione, uncertain.

"Yes," Harry said simply, struck almost speechless.

Hermione waved a hand in front of Harry's eyes and he seemed to wake up. He smiled and said, "I'm paying! It's only fair!"

Hermione entered her dressing room and examined herself in the mirror. Nothing special and certainly nothing different, but Harry had a way of making her feel like she was a goddess. "I love him," she whispered to herself, realizing that it was more than as a friend or as a brother. She really loved him.

Outside, Harry pondered the odd feelings he'd been having about Hermione lately. "I think I love her," he said in hushed tones, surprised by the cause of his emotions.

Hermione emerged moments later, clutching her two outfits, the formal one and a more casual outfit comprised of a denim pleated skirt and a red t-shirt that said in red, white, and blue rhinestones "Flirt." Harry bought both of them for her, ignoring her protests.

They spent the rest of the day in much the same way, browsing the mall, making purchases. They returned to the house in late afternoon and Hermione insisted on getting in the pool because they had both bought new bathing suits. Harry didn't put up a fight. He raced up the stairs and quickly changed into his new black bathing suit, which had bolts of electric blue running up the sides. He raced down to the pool, careful to be quiet. The pool was large and its glittering waters were tempting him to jump right into the refreshing cold. He waded in and ducked below the water's surface so as not to be seen by Hermione as she slowly strolled to the pool's edge, shy in her new baby blue-and-white polka-dot bikini.

Not seeing Harry, she surmised that she was the first one to the pool. She jumped in, splashing a bit of water out. Harry quickly swam through the water to her and, still underwater, grabbed her ankle.

Amused, he watched her whip fearfully around. Laughing, he surfaced, taking her ankle with him.

"Harry!" she shouted as she dipped lower and lower toward the water. "You had better not dunk me or there will be terrible consequences!"

"Oh, really?" he said playfully as he scooped her up and dropped her into the pool.

"Harry James Potter!" she sputtered. "You are going to pay for that."

Jumping up she managed to get her arms on his shoulders and pushed him forcefully toward the water until he was just underwater. He, in turn, dunked her playfully. They spent nearly an hour like this before Mr. and Mrs. Granger returned home.

**AN:**This chapter was longer. I hope you like it! Sorry it took me so long to update. The next chapter could be up as soon as tomorrow, but if you don't review I might not get it up until Monday or Tuesday. I thrive off of reviews, so review, review, review! Any comments? Questions? Suggestions? REVIEW:-)


	5. Dentists' Convention

Summer Love

Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I own only the plot. Everything you recognize belongs to Ms. Rowling, a most brilliant author. **

**A special thanks goes to Kacie, who has pestered me and nagged and done everything in her power to get me to update this. Thanks, KC, I dunno what'd I'd do without you! Love ya! **

**And now to the story, hope you all enjoy it as much as I know Kacie will :-) **

Harry, Hermione, Mr. and Mrs. Granger had a quick dinner of pizza and settled down to watch a movie before they went to bed. Hermione slept peacefully. Her sleep was very deep so that hardly anything could wake her. She didn't even dream.

At one point during the night Hermione awoke suddenly as though doused with water. She lay still and silent, straining to hear what had awoken her. Soon she fell asleep again, forgetting all about the brief interruption to her rest.

The next morning Mr. and Mrs. Granger announced that they would be traveling to Spain for a week on business. What a business trip would be for a dentist, Harry could not imagine, but they were leaving all the same. Hermione was taken aback, for she hadn't heard about this dentists' convention before that morning and usually would be told about something like this well beforehand. It would last a week and they could be reached at their hotel, the contact information of which they had written on a Post-It note on the refrigerator.

Right before they left Mrs. Granger took Hermione aside and Harry, guessing what they would be talking about, quickly left the room before Mr. Granger caught his gaze as he was attempting to do.

"Now, Hermione, don't do anything… ahem," Mrs. Granger cleared her throat as Hermione glanced around for Harry, whom she had hoped would at least bear some of the embarrassment of the situation, but he had made a quick retreat. 'He knows what's going on as well as I do,' thought Hermione grimly. "Stupid." Mrs. Granger continued. "I trust you and he's a lovely boy whom I would trust to take responsibility for his actions, but I would rather he didn't have to. Things happen. I know. Just try to make sure they don't, okay? You love him so much, it's plain to see and he loves you just as much. I just know. Don't do anything you wouldn't want me to know about, all right?" asked Mrs. Granger, obviously worried about leaving her teen-aged daughter alone in her house with a teen-aged boy for a week.

"Geez, Mom," Hermione mumbled, cheeks burning. "You know we won't… do anything."

"Yes, well… we're trusting you—and him," Mrs. Granger sighed as they walked out of the door.

Hermione went in search of Harry once her face turned a normal color. He had very noticeably disappeared during the lecture and Hermione was not exactly happy with him for leaving her to bear the brunt of the responsibility. I mean, obviously they wouldn't do anything. They were just friends, but he should have been there as well, to reassure her parents that nothing like that was going on between them. 'Perhaps it was better he wasn't there, though,' Hermione thought, remembering her mother's comments about their "love" for each other.

Hermione finally found Harry in the library, looking at the scrapbook she had given him for his birthday. She quietly entered the room, hoping not to disturb him. He seemed so peaceful, peaceful like he hadn't been since she couldn't even remember how long ago. She walked silently up to the leather chair he was sitting in, shielding her eyes from the sun streaming in through the window in front of the chair. It was then that she noticed the tears coursing noiselessly down his face.

Hermione whispered in surprise, "Harry, dear, what's the matter?"

**AN: **Sorry it's a little short and sorry it took me so long, but there will be another chapter up tomorrow (or even later today)! Sorry about the cliffhanger, but it's not that bad, is it? REVIEW PLEASE! Review review reviewreviewreview! Pleeeeeeease!


	6. Tears and Dreams

Summer Love

Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: Only the plot belongs to me. If the rest did, I would be the happiest person on Earth, but, alas, I am not and I don't own anything you recognize.**

He jumped several inches, reaching instinctively for his wand, and looked back at her. "Oh, it's only you," he smiled weakly, much relieved. "I didn't hear you come in." He swiped at the tears leaking from his eyes, but they just kept cascading down his cheeks in torrents.

"Harry, what is it?" Hermione repeated, concerned.

"It's just… I don't know… everything was just s-so simple back then. D-defeat the bad guy. No questions asked. No damn prophecies… and we d-didn't fight amongst ourselves. We were h-happy. I was happy for the first and, it seems, only t-time in my life," fresh tears bathed his cheeks. "We were so y-young and innocent… What happened?" He broke down into loud, uncontrollable sobs that shook his entire body.

"I don't know, Harry, I don't know," Hermione choked, a lone tear gliding down from her beautiful cinnamon eyes. She walked around the chair and sat on the foot stool, and gathered Harry into her arms. He cried on her shoulder, and she cried too for the things gone by when all was joyous and well in the world and they were oblivious to all the hidden dangers lurking in the shadows. She wept for the dark, suspicious times that were upon them, surrounding them, blocking out the light and good. And last she sobbed for Harry, her Harry, who had kept all of his fear and anger and sorrow bottled up for so long, not trusting even her with his emotions. They sat like this for a long time.

They eventually got up and went about some chores. They completed the summer essays for Professor McGonagall and Sprout on Transplanting Spells and Venomous Tentaculas.

The day passed quietly and each sought the other's company for comfort, not wanting to stray far from each other and feeling exposed after crying their hearts out and revealing their emotions.

They retired early, each to their own room, and abruptly fell asleep. Crying takes a lot of energy.

Hermione dreamt of Harry dancing with her at a school ball and then at Christmas in the Common Room as he kissed her under the mistletoe. Then she and Harry were taking off in the Quidditch field on his Firebolt and flying all around the moonlit sky, the wind making Hermione's chestnut hair float along behind them, tickling Harry's face as he held her tight. She was so afraid of heights, but in the dream she was fearless almost as if she had done this many times before. There were dreams from her past, too. Halloween in first year when Harry and Ron rescued her from the troll. In second year when she watched him go forward through the flames to meet Voldemort, knowing she could not go with him. Third year as Harry and Hermione went back in time and flew to Flitwick's office on Buckbeak to rescue Sirius. In fourth year when she stayed up late with him researching ways to stay alive underwater or to defeat a dragon or practicing Summoning Charms when she was his only ally. In fifth year, not so long ago, when they entered the Department of Mysteries, fear and excitement mixed together within Hermione's heart and she went on to protect him, to help him. One last scene played itself through her mind, Harry and Hermione down by the lake, which had always been their place, where Harry went down on his knees, taking a small box out of his pocket, opening it… but before she could see what was in it, the dream was swept away like a mist in a strong wind.

Hermione clung to the dream, wishing it to go on. It had been such a nice dream. Then, from next door, from Harry's room, she heard a whimper like a trapped animal and terror clutched at her heart. Her stomach turned in knots and the sound continued, making Hermione want only to snuggle down closer into her blankets and never come out. It could only be Harry and there was only one person who could instill such fear in him. She couldn't motivate herself to move, but she had to. It was time for her to be the hero. Like Harry had been saving her all these years, now she must save him.

"Come on, Hermione," she reprimanded herself in the quietest voice she could manage. "This is the man you love. Now are you going to sit here and let him die or are you going to go in there and help him?"

These words breathed life into her limbs and she forced herself to her feet, fetched her wand and headed toward the door. 'This is the only way,' she thought, 'that any of those wonderful things in the dream will ever come true. If ever they do, which is hardly likely.'

She stepped out of her room and, knees trembling, forced herself down the hall to his door, terrified of what she would find inside.

**AN:** Aren't you proud of me? Two chapters in one day. It is a record! Now be nice and review!


	7. Fears and Confessions

**Summer Love**

**Chapter 7**

**Disclaimer: Only the plot belongs to me. The rest belongs to the ingenious Ms. Rowling. **

Hermione stood in front of his door, not daring to touch it, letting terror have full reign for just a minute. Hand shaking like a leaf, she reached out and grasped the doorknob, but did not open it. She couldn't go in there. What if Voldemort was there? What if he killed her? What if? What if? What if?

Once again she scolded herself, although this time it was in her mind, not trusting herself to speak. 'Come on, Hermione,' she thought and even her thoughts were quiet. 'Voldemort, if that's who's in there, has entered your home uninvited (obviously) and you're gonna just stand here while he kills Harry? What has come over you? You're gonna stand tall and fight him!'

Finally getting some handle over her fear, she slowly began to turn the doorknob when she heard Harry again.

"Not her!" he shouted. "Not her! Oh God, not her," he cried. "Isn't it enough that you killed my parents and Sirius? She's all I've got left. Please, anything! I'll do anything!" he sobbed. "Might as well kill me then because I can't live without her. I won't!"

Hermione gasped and relinquished her grip on the doorknob. Who was Voldemort going to kill? Hermione fell to the side of the door, swaying precariously. Was he going to kill her, Hermione? She leaned against the comfortingly sturdy wall behind her, heart racing. As she heard Harry scream again some instinct overcame her and strength flooded into her body. Expecting the worst, to see Voldemort standing over Harry torturing him, she flung open the door with little regard for herself, for her life. The room was pitch-black. She couldn't see a thing. Her hand scrabbled frantically along the wall for the light switch. After what seemed like eons, but must have been only agonizing seconds, she found the switch and flipped on the light.

Alas, she was too late. Harry, her Harry, was gone where she could not follow. He lay upon the floor, his emerald eyes, the eyes that never failed to send shockwaves through her body, stared back unseeing. Harry Potter, the savior of the wizarding world, was dead. She had expected anything, anything but this. She ran to his body, pressing her fingers to his wrist in hopes of a pulse, however small. It was to no avail. He was gone. Hermione flung herself onto his dead body, sobbing and clutching at his cold, cold hands, the hands that had always protected her. She had failed so horribly to save him just once, all because of her fear. He would never know that she loved him, held him dearer than anything in this world. He had gone beyond the veil, never to return.

Teehee… Just kidding. I'm not that evil! Or am I…? lol…

After what seemed like eons, but must have been only agonizing seconds, she found the switch and flipped on the light. She was quite surprised at what she saw, which was not what she had feared or even expected. Not even close. No cloaked figure standing menacingly above Harry, no wand fixed on Harry's heart, no glittering scarlet eyes. Just Harry, thrashing about on his bed, tangled in a mass of sheets.

From Hermione's mouth issued a sigh of immense relief mixed with something like disappointment. She had steeled herself for a terrible, fearsome battle for her life and the life of her beloved, but to see his sleeping face, so sweet even though it bore a deep frown, was enough. He was alive. It was more than enough, she should have been down on her knees thanking the Lord above. She hurried to his side, pressing a soothingly cool hand to his sweaty forehead and murmuring to him, "It's all right, Harry, it was just a dream. Just a dream." It was as much to reassure him as to reassure herself. For a minute there, just before she caught sight of him on the bed, she had been sure he was dead and it had scared her so, so much. What would she do without him? "Just a dream," she stated quietly, almost wonderingly.

It was to Hermione's melodious voice that Harry awoke. Her refreshingly cool hand on his forehead felt so nice. So nice that for a minute he almost calmed down, but, remembering the dream, glanced about nervously, afraid it might have been real. It had seemed real, so lifelike in quality, that he marveled at the fact that it hadn't actually happened, that Hermione was still there beside him like she had always been and like he hoped she always would be.

"Just a dream," Hermione soothed one last time as Harry opened his eyes.

His hands trailed their way up her back and tangled in her soft curls as though he was making sure she were really there and that she wasn't just an illusion or a hallucination. "You're real," he marveled, confirming it to himself. "Oh, Hermione, you're real!"

"Yes, I was quite aware of that, but thanks for reminding me," she smiled, concern strong in her heart. What had happened in that dream of his?

As though reading her mind, Harry began to tell of the dream. "I had the most terrible nightmare. Voldemort was threatening me, telling me to give up the fight, that he would win anyway in the end," he sighed and hesitated before going on. "He threatened to kill you, Hermione. He threatened to kill you and I couldn't bear that. If I saw you hurt because of me I could never live with myself. Perhaps giving up would be the right thing to do," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes wearily, as though to rid him of the fleeting memories of his nighttime visitor. "Yes, I suppose I should surrender. Better that than see you injured or killed because of my stupidity. Why, oh why, did I not learn Occlumency?" he lamented. "Now there's nothing else to it. I must face him in our final fight, though I know I must die. The price I pay for my idiocy and stubbornness."

"Harry, no! You mustn't! You aren't ready! Please," she exclaimed, alarmed at his attitude.

"Why not? No one would care. There is no one left who would care if I died! It would save you. I don't care anymore. He's killed my parents and he's killed Sirius. He'll continue to kill everyone I love until he kills me. Why not just let him?" asked Harry in an exhausted manner. "I'm tired of running from him. I've been doing it for sixteen years and I'm done."

"No one would care? No one would care!" Hermione squawked, her voice rising by the word. "Who am I, then? I mean I know I'm no Cho Chang, but at least I care, Harry. If you go I'm coming with you. I've stood by you all this time and I'm not going to leave when the going gets tough. You could at least take me into consideration!"

"Hermione, please. You should save yourself at least. You are the most decent person I've ever met and I don't want you to come with me or I fear there will be no one pleasant and devoted left. I daresay you'll live well enough without me. You and Ron," he whispered.

"Harry! How can you be so utterly blind? Don't you see that you make my world go round? Can't you see it? Can't you?" she yelled, tears spilling over for what seemed to be the umpteenth time in the past couple of days. What about him made her like this? Why couldn't she get control over her wild emotions?

"I don't understand, Hermione. I'm not smart like you and, unfortunately, whatever you're trying to get across, you're going to have to spell it out," he uttered almost angrily. She had never yelled at him like this. Why'd she have to choose now when he was at his worst?

"Harry, I love you. Are you senseless? I _love _you," she confided in a hoarse voice, her head down. "I thought it rather obvious."

"You—you do?" he questioned uncertainly, pushing her chin up so that her eyes would meet his.

"Yes, Harry, I do!" she laughed, her secret revealed at last. "I love you! I love you! I love you!" she shouted happily, throwing her arms around his neck.

Slowly, tentatively, he captured her lips in his, savoring their sweet fullness (AN: I cannot believe I'm writing this. I mean, I like writing this sort of stuff, it's just when other people are going to read it it becomes so weird.). His heart skipped a beat as he watched Hermione, her eyes closed, her face angelic. At that moment he felt complete as he had never felt before in his life and it scared him just a little. He circled his arms around Hermione's slender waist, pulling her closer, and she smiled through the kiss.

As he leaned in, Hermione suddenly knew what was coming. His lips brushed hers and she sunk into him. They were like two pieces of a puzzle that fit together perfectly. Her eyes closed, she felt him put his arms around her, pull her closer. For once her mind was silent, all the wandering thoughts that usually clouded her brain were shut out. Her heart surged with more love than she could ever have imagined one person having for another.

When she and Harry broke apart from that simple, but passion-filled kiss, Hermione remembered what her mother had said before she departed and suddenly understood. 'She knew this would happen,' thought Hermione, beaming with utmost joy. Hermione got up and whispered, "Good night, love. I'll see you tomorrow bright and early.

He laughed. "Sweet dreams, dearest. And if you really love me, you'll let me sleep." He added flirtatiously, his eyes fluttering shut.

Hermione positively floated out of the room and into her bed. She had gone into his room expecting to duel with Voldemort for her life and Harry's. It had only been a dream, though, and she left with a kiss. Now she could only hope _she_ wasn't dreaming. Of course, she couldn't have been asleep. The night had been even more perfect than anything her imagination could conjure up.

**AN:** This was a very long chapter. Sorry I didn't update in a better amount of time because the cliffhanger in the last chapter definitely deserved Cliffhanger of the Year award (but you don't have to take my word for it because I'm biased. It's my story after all.). Please review. Comments? Suggestions? Constructive Criticism? Please review with any of that stuff. Go on, now, review!


	8. New Day and True Love

Summer Love

Chapter 8

Sorry I haven't updated in a while, everybody, but I've been really busy and I was on a retreat this weekend and everything, so… forgive me, will you?

**Disclaimer:** Nothing you recognize belongs to me. If it did, I'd be richer than the Queen of England, but I'm not. J.K. Rowling is.

And to the story:

Hermione awoke early in the morning. The birds called to each other outside her window. She smiled to herself, remembering the events of the night before. Finally grasping what had happened, she sat up swiftly.

"Harry kissed me," she confirmed to herself quietly. "He kissed me!"

Humming happily, she picked out an outfit for the day, her new blue skirt and red shirt, and hopped into the shower. She got out and dressed in the clothes and bounced joyfully around her room until golden rays of summer sunlight filtered through her window, lighting up her room, blue as a clear summer sky. She bustled to and fro, tidying her bureau, straightening up her desk.

"It's going to be a wonderful day," she commented to the singing birds and her empty room, her chest swelling with joy.

At long last, feeling she couldn't keep from him any longer, Hermione strolled over to Harry's room. She had tried to let him sleep, really she had, but it wasn't fair that he sleep while she waited anxiously for him to get up. Hermione loved mornings, she loved the way the fresh sunlight made patterns on the walls and doors.

She paused with a second's hesitation outside of Harry's door. What if it had all been a mistake? What if he didn't actually like her? Did she really deserve someone as good and kind and loving as him? Hermione reached out her hand and took hold of the doorknob just as she had the night before. Last night she had anticipated a duel to the death with Voldemort awaiting her on the other side, but somehow a more terrible fear built up in her heart, staying her hand and stirring her mind.

'The worst that can happen is that Harry says it was a mistake,' the rational side of her mind assured her soothingly. 'The worst? The _worst?_ Oh, that's the worst that can happen, is it?' sneered the pessimistic side of her mind, the side of her mind she didn't much like at the moment. 'It's now or never.'

Hermione would never know from which side of her mind that statement issued, for at that moment she did something that she feared to a terrible extent. She turned the doorknob and entered the room. Harry's sleeping silhouette rested on the bed, his black hair, the only part of him above the covers, stood out sharply against the scarlet walls.

Hermione walked slowly to the large windows and, mastering her fears, threw the shade up, letting light into the room. Harry shrunk away from the light, but did not move otherwise.

"Wake up, sleepyhead," she sang in what she hoped were cheery tones. Again, Harry didn't move, but he smiled in his sleep.

Hermione let her uncertainties drift away and smiled, too. She threw open the windows, letting in a soft breeze that blew her hair around her face.

"Wake up and embrace the day!" she chorused, throwing her arms wide as if she intended to do just that. She knelt and planted a light kiss on his cheek.

Slowly he opened his eyes and awoke. "Hey, beautiful," he murmured, seeing Hermione's face close to his.

She grinned elatedly, leaning in for a kiss. Getting one, she cried, "Get up. I may be beautiful, but the day awaiting us is more so!"

He complied, getting out of bed and stumbling into the bathroom. She laid out his casual outfit of cargo pants and a green t-shirt and went to wait for him outside.

About a half an hour later, that's where he found her. Out in the hall absorbed in a book of poetry she had found in another guest room.

"Hello," he greeted, gazing fondly down at her.

"Oh, hello, Harry," she answered, putting the book down and looking up at him. "Wow, you look handsome," she noted, scrutinizing him. Harry blushed under her stare. "Hot date?" she teased.

"Well, yes, actually," replied Harry, enjoying their banter. "Quite a beautiful young lady, now that you mention it."

"Why, thank you," she smiled. "Would you care to join me for breakfast?" she inquired, holding out her arm.

"Of course, milady," he breathed, rather enjoying their little act. He took her hand and leisurely brought it to his lips, kissing it and leaving Hermione feeling rather warm.

"Oh, come on, you goof," she said breathlessly, tingles running down her hand where he had kissed it.

"What, can't you outlast the marvelous Harry Potter, master of passion and romance?" he grinned tauntingly.

"I could outlast you any day, Mr. Potter. I just don't care to waste time in such a manner at the moment," Hermione retaliated, beginning to lead him down the stairs by the hand.

"Wuss," he said under his breath, so that she could just hear him. She ignored the comment, rubbing the back of her hand.

As they sat down to breakfast, Hermione admitted to herself, 'There is no way I could outlast him.'

They spent the day running around the backyard and front yard, in and out of the pool. They played tag for a long time until Hermione felt her lungs would burst. All day Harry sensed that Hermione was drawing up a plan, but he couldn't quite fathom what.

After the day was nearly done and the couple was watching the sun sink below the horizon, Hermione finally revealed her scheme to Harry.

"Harry?" Hermione sighed, her head resting on his strong shoulder.

"Yeah, Mione?" Harry responded.

"I've been thinking," she commented slightly drowsily.

"Oh dear. Should I be worried?" inquired Harry, laughing.

"No. I was just remembering that the park in my neighborhood is doing a fireworks display tonight," she stated, sitting up. "And I was wondering if you'd like to go see it."

"Sounds like fun," he answered, also sitting up.

"Yay!" cheered Hermione, jumping up.

"Ok, so I suppose we'll just wear our casual outfits," asked Harry, following her into the house.

"Yup," confirmed Hermione.

**AN: **What'd ya think? Good? Bad? Also, I've run out of what I'd already written before hand and I'm running out of ideas. If you've got any please review and tell me in a review. Thanks! REVIEW!


	9. Romance at Dinner

Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything else you recognize. I just wish.

Harry watched Hermione race upstairs to freshen up, grinning. She was such an awesome person. He couldn't believe someone like her would want him for a boyfriend, but it was definitely true. She had positively glowed with happiness all day, an utmost joy he had never seen in her before. He was himself giddy with love and elated in their relationship.

He went to the pantry, looking inside for potential ingredients. She had done so much for him so far this summer, having him here, cooking breakfast and lunch everyday. He was going to make her a romantic dinner. It wouldn't be dark enough for the fireworks for a couple of hours.

Hermione walked downstairs, unsuspecting, about an hour later. Harry met her in the hall and offered his arm formally. She slipped her arm into his, wondering what was going on. Hermione made for the kitchen, but Harry directed her into the formal dining room. The small heirloom dining room table was set for two. Candlelight spread from two tall silver candlesticks Harry had obviously dug up somewhere in the china closet. By the soft light of the two simple white candles, Hermione saw two of her mother's favorite china dishes, gold-rimmed; silverware set in exactly the right place, and two crystal glasses. In the center stood a small bouquet of vines and one single red rose in a delicate bud vase.

Hermione gasped. The scene was perfect. Harry pulled out her chair for her in a chivalrous way, allowing her to sit. Her face was lit by the candlelight and an awestruck look flitted across her face. She glanced up at Harry, delighted and shocked, a slight smile gracing her lips. "You did all this for me?" she breathed, her voice as soft as a breeze.

Harry smiled, "Of course. Wait here for just a moment," he whispered, trying not to ruin the moment. He disappeared into the kitchen.

Hermione gazed about her in wonder. The polished furniture and silver and gold pieces decorating the cabinets glinted in the light of the candles and she saw other candles set upon smaller candlesticks giving off their own light on the cabinets and in the antique chandelier that had never been converted to electricity.

Harry returned, bearing several small bowls of the same china, each holding something different and delicious-looking that gave off a scent that made Hermione's mouth water. He disappeared into the kitchen again and emerged, almost as soon as he was gone, with an enormous platter of roast beef smothered in cream of mushroom soup, which was Hermione's favorite. Her jaw dropped.

"Dinner is served," he grinned and reached over, closing Hermione's mouth gently. "Surprised?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

Hermione mouthed silently for a minute, trying to find words to describe her amazement at this unrevealed skill. "Surprised?" she finally choked out. "I didn't even know you could cook."

"Well, considering I've been the Dursleys' personal servant and cook all these years… had some use, didn't it?" he laughed heartily.

"Well, I suppose we should start eating, though it'd be a shame to ruin the gorgeous presentation," she commented, staring at the roast beef. Only the chefs you saw on TV knew how to present something so pleasing to the eye.

"Here," Harry lifted the finest piece of beef off of the platter and placed it on her plate, making sure to include some of the delicious sauce, the base of which had been canned cream of mushroom soup. He had enhanced it with spices and fresh mushrooms, making it infinitely better.

He began to pass other bowls of food to her, telling her what they were. "Mashed potatoes with garlic, asparagus roasted asparagus with lemon, almond mandarin salad, and some bread I picked up on the way to the store to buy most of these ingredients," he offered each to her in turn.

Hermione took a little bit of each, afraid she wouldn't be able to eat some of everything. She cut her beef into small pieces, savoring each tender, flavorful piece. The mashed potatoes were delicious, just enough garlic. She had never had roasted asparagus before, but it quickly became one of her favorites. At last she ate some of the almond mandarin salad, which had a roasted flavor from the almonds, but also tasted of citrus because of the mandarin oranges, an interesting combination. The bread was wonderfully soft and warm with some creamy butter. She enjoyed every bite of her dinner and they conversed about many things.

The ambience was impeccable, the candles making Harry's brilliantly green eyes sparkle and lighting up his face. It was all very romantic.

As Hermione was about to get up, Harry bade her wait once again as he rushed into the kitchen. He came back out carrying a cake. "I didn't make this one. Pastries are beyond me, but I got it at the bakery, so it should be good," he set it down carefully on the table.

Hermione cut herself a slice of the chocolate iced chocolate cake and took a bite, letting the delicious chocolate slide down her throat. "Yum," she murmured reverently. "You have to taste this," she declared, cutting a bite of it off of her slice with her fork and holding it tantalizingly in front of him, just out of his reach. As he leaned forward slightly, mouth open, obviously intending to snatch the slice of cake, she pulled it back again, still slightly out of his reach.

He glared at the cake and then, going into his reflexive Quidditch mode, leaned forward quickly, catching the cake. He chewed it slowly and swallowed. "Yes, I'd have to agree. Yum," he agreed.

They finished the piece of cake, playing the same little game, which Harry got steadily worse at as Hermione added more tricks.

She cut herself another piece of cake, licking it sensually off of the fork. Harry eyes couldn't leave her movements, but he felt himself turning scarlet.

"Hermione, you awful tease!" he exclaimed, his face burning.

They carried on in such a way until it was time to go to the fireworks.

**AN: **Sorry, everyone. I think I said this chapter would be the fireworks, but then I got wrapped up in this idea. I'll update with the fireworks in a few days (possibly even tomorrow), but only if you review.


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